


Available

by ros3bud009



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Light Voyeurism, M/M, Nothing that bad though, Possessive Behavior, Propositions, References to interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2016-11-08
Packaged: 2018-08-29 20:08:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8503669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ros3bud009/pseuds/ros3bud009
Summary: “Well, I was hoping you might know if Ratchet’s available.” When Optimus’s optic ridges only furrowed more and he started to wave a servo towards the medbay, the wrecker continued, “No, I know that the Doc’s in right now. I’ll get to him. What I meant is, is he available, you know?”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Shortfic based on the prompt: claiming/marking - Optimus/Ratchet? Optimus being surprisingly a little possessive?

“Mind if I borrow your audial for a second?”

Optimus’s optics cycled as he turned from the console to focus on Wheeljack. While the wrecker never considered himself to be much for formality, even he could admit that staring up at Prime had him reconsidering his question. There was a regality to him that had initially put Wheeljack off – as if he was somehow above the rest of them and their base desires.

But the Prime had proved himself as far as Wheeljack was concerned. There was a reason the wrecker had finally agreed to join his team, after all.

“Of course, Wheeljack,” Optimus replied earnestly with a tilt of his helm.

Wheeljack shifted to lean against the side of the computer console, casual as could be. “You’ve known Ratchet long enough that if anyone knew anything about him, it would be you, yeah?”

Optimus looked puzzled, but nodded. “He is an old friend, yes. Why do you ask?”

“Well, I was hoping you might know if Ratchet’s available.” When Optimus’s optic ridges only furrowed more and he started to wave a servo towards the medbay, the wrecker continued, “No, I know that the Doc’s in right now. I’ll get to him. What I meant is, is he _available,_ you know?”

Optimus’s optic ridges rose a bit.

“Romantically, you mean?”

“Something like that,” Wheeljack said with a wink.

Optimus slowly narrowed his optics, focused completely on Wheeljack. His mouth tightened. However, his tone was still even as he said again, “Why do you ask?”

Wheeljack started to wonder if he had made a mistake. Nothing was won by retreat though, so he pushed forward.

“It’s not that hard to tell that he’s not seeing anyone on the team,” Wheeljack explained. “But I’ve met my fair share of bots I thought were unattached, only to find out they had been separated from their lover because of the war, don’t even know if they’re alive or not. It’s never a fun conversation for anyone, so I try my best these days to avoid it when I can. Bulk said he didn’t think Ratchet had any of those, but that you would probably know better than him.”

Expression barely shifting, Optimus stepped away from his console to fully face the wrecker.

“You want to know if he’s available to _you,_ ” he clarified, ignoring Wheeljack’s explanation and getting right to the point.

Wheeljack shrugged, forcing himself to hold the Prime’s oddly intense gaze.

“That a problem, Boss?”

Optimus did not respond right away, seemingly lost in thought for a moment as he considered the wrecker. Without preamble, he turned and started towards the med bay. Wheeljack watched and shifted on his pedes, unsure if he was expected to follow or if this was signaling a very sudden end to the conversation. Once the Prime glanced over his shoulder at him with a raised optic ridge though, Wheeljack ex-vented and shoved off the console to follow.

Once they had made it to the entrance of the med bay though, Optimus lifted a servo to stop Wheeljack before continuing alone. The wrecker could only look on as Optimus headed towards the medic.

Ratchet was hunched over a worktable facing away from where Wheeljack stood. He was just close enough that Ratchet could be heard grumbling when something in his servos whirled to life before its motor guttered out, but far enough that Wheeljack couldn’t pick out the specific curses.

“Still giving you trouble, Ratchet?” Optimus asked, his voice soft as he approached.

“What’s it look like?” Despite the harsh tone, Ratchet’s frame eased a bit as Optimus’s right servo landed on his right shoulder and the Prime peaked over his left.

The two chatted easily enough about the medic’s project, Optimus supportive while Ratchet ranted with less vitriol with each passing second. Wheeljack just watched, stepping back a bit so he was half hidden by the wall. He wasn’t sure what it was exactly he was supposed to gain from watching the two. Perhaps Optimus was planning on asking Ratchet himself, or—

Wheeljack’s optic ridges rose as he noticed Optimus’s thumb rubbing circles into Ratchet’s shoulder plating.

“Perhaps it is time you considered taking a break.”

“As if I have the time for it.”

Optimus shifted closer behind Ratchet, and while there was no way for the wrecker to see from where he stood, he could hear the soft clunk of armor meeting.

“If you’re working on this, then that means you’ve finished the projects you had for the day.”

“That’s the only time I have to work on this formula! If I don’t work on it on days like this, then it won’t be ready when we really need it.”

Optimus reached out and cupped the medic’s helm, turning Ratchet’s face towards him and tilting it up. The smile on the Prime’s face was one that Wheeljack was pretty sure he was never meant to witness.

“A short break then.”

“Optimus,” Ratchet sighed, but whatever he had planned to say next was lost as Optimus bent his helm down to steal a—

A kiss.

Sure, with their backs turned to him, Optimus’s wide shoulder armor blocked the view, but Wheeljack knew a kiss when he saw one.

That didn’t quell the shock as he watched Optimus Prime, their no-partying, no-fun, previously-assumed-celibate _Prime,_ kissing the team’s doctor as if they had done it hundreds of times before.

They kissed slowly, lingering, and even when the seemed to finally stop, Optimus only bent his head lower, no doubt to kiss at the medic’s neck or shoulder. And _Primus_ , the noise Ratchet made was downright _sinful_.

“Give me an hour,” came Ratchet’s voice, softer than Wheeljack had ever heard it. However, when the Prime didn’t stop whatever he was doing, Ratchet’s tone took on its usual harshness as he elbowed Optimus gently. “I mean it, Optimus. Just one hour to finish this up. And I swear, if you show up even a minute earlier, I’ll add another hour. You know I will.”

“That I do.” Optimus pulled away, but not before leaving one last kiss on the side of Ratchet’s helm. “An hour then.”

“Don’t be late either,” Ratchet _purred,_ a sound which Wheeljack was certain he would never be able to erase from his processor.

There was no time to linger on that thought though because Optimus was turning and staring right at him, his mouth slowly curling into a small, smug smirk. Not once did his gaze shift away as his long legs strode confidently towards him. It was all that Wheeljack could manage to not take a step back when the Prime finally reached him.

“So, not available then,” Wheeljack said quietly so Ratchet would not hear, trying for nonchalance in hopes to mask his disappointment and, confusingly, arousal.

“No,” Optimus agreed, “he is not.”

And with that, the Prime returned to his console.

A minute passed before Wheeljack commented casually, “You know, if you two ever want to try bringing someone else into the berth with ya–”

The glower that Optimus gave him was enough for Wheeljack to finally make his retreat.


End file.
